


It's Us Against the World

by Angelus Fortis ut Vocant (Angelus_Fortis)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Action/Adventure, BAMF, Complicated Feels, Family/Friendship - Freeform, Gen, Other, Team Free Will, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-05 11:23:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6702754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelus_Fortis/pseuds/Angelus%20Fortis%20ut%20Vocant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Season 9 AU) Episode 3 - "I'm No Angel" Canon Divergence. The angel, Ezekiel, is possessing Sam Winchester and has convinced his older brother to kick the now-human Castiel out of the bunker. Because of that, Dean has begun feeling suspicious of his little brother's savior and decides to make the 'heart choice' - trusting his best friend. The hunter won't let his family be ripped apart right when they needed him the most so along with Cas, he makes his own plans. Dean Winchester and Castiel set out to save Sam, restore Cas's grace and make everything right.  "You really believe we three will be enough?" Cas asked. "Yeah, Cas, I do. It's us against the world," he grinned. (SCHEDULED FOR RE-WRITE)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Zeke and the Geek

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hi folks! This is my first attempt at a Supernatural fic so please excuse some grammatical errors cuz I haven't written anything quite this long for over a year now. But if you guys are free to comment about the story, suggest or squeal, they are all welcome. Please enjoy the story!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not, in all intentions and purposes, own SUPERNATURAL. Sadly, this sad,sad world belongs to Eric Kripke, the WB and CW. The first part of Chapter One contains canon conversation taken from Season 9 Episode 3 - "I'm No Angel"

"Castiel cannot stay here," Ezekiel abruptly said, effectively cutting off Dean's rambling. The hunter fixed him with a surprised look but the angel continued, "He will bring the angels down on all of us." Dean felt a little slack-jawed at what his brother's voice was saying. "No, no, he's got the Enochian tattoo. He's warded," he reasoned.

"He was warded when April found him, and she killed him."

Dean felt a little lost with that fact, but determined to reason it out. "Yes, and you brought him back, and I thank you for that, but this is  _Cas._ " The hunter knew he was grasping at straws and hell, if he sounded as desperate as he felt, "Okay, who vouched for you when I didn't know you from Jack. The bunker is safe."

Ezekiel shot him a smoldering gaze. "Bartholomew is amassing a force. We cannot stand an incursion. Castiel is in danger and if he is here, I am in danger."

"You're in danger? From who? The angels?" Dean suspiciously asked. He knew nothing good came with letting this angel, who he knew nothing about, possess his little brother. And he knew from experience that Winchester luck sucks ass.

Zeke sighed, "If he stays, I am afraid I will have no choice but to leave."

"Oh, no, you can't do that. Sam's not well enough. If you leave his body..." Dean trailed off.

"I know. I am sorry."

For a moment, Dean didn't know what to do. Then his brother's eyes flashed a luminescent blue and Sam began talking again, like he didn't have an angel using him as a meat-suit now and then. He heard the younger Winchester say about retreating to his room and Dean nodded absently.

Minutes passed and all the hunter could think of is how the current situation was all kinds of messed up. First there was Cas, who is apparently human, and is being hunted by a faction of fallen angels. Then there's Ezekiel, who's being cryptic and suspicious, and wants Dean's best friend to leave the safety of the bunker in exchange for the safety of his little brother. Yes, the world is once again screwing with Dean Winchester, and it wants to make him choose between the only two people in his life.

But Dean didn't want to choose, Dean didn't want to have only one choice. He looked over to Castiel who was hungrily eating his burrito at the big table in the library. What Dean has to do is to trust Cas. Then maybe, he'll know what the deal is with Zeke.

"Epic food. I can't get enough," Castiel said as Dean approached him. The hunter looked a bit grim but he smiled tightly, "Cas, uh, can we talk?"

Cas immediately pulled out another seat beside him and faced the Winchester, putting down his burrito. "Of course. Dean, you know I always appreciate our talks, our time together." Dean didn't sit on the other chair but he leaned down on the table, eyes not quite meeting Castiel's.

"Listen, buddy, um..." it felt like an eternity for Dean, because god knows, he really, really did not want to say this.

"Cas, you can't stay."

It hurt to say it. Sure, he had to pretend he was going along with Zeke's plans but it still hurt. And Cas's face morphing from confusion to dawning realization hurt big time. Dean was waiting for the angel-turned-human to do something, anything. Maybe punching him in the face, or laughing it away as some joke or even, god forbid,  _crying_  at Dean's words. But no, Castiel didn't do anything of those basic human reactions. He just stared at him then nodded, as if he considered Dean would actually do something like this - as if Dean would abandon his best friend.

The hunter knew Cas was beating himself for the whole Metatron fiasco but he didn't realize how deep the guilt ran inside the ex-angel. He should've known the bastard would willingly throw himself into something stupid like 'punishment' so he could 'atone for his sins'. Like Purgatory wasn't enough incentive as proof for that.

The weary resignation on his friend's face made Dean chuckle humorlessly. Of course  _Cas_ won't punch, laugh or cry. Cas was still  _Castiel_ , and he'll always be the awkward nerdy angel they called family, even without his wings.

The said ex-angel physically deflated and sagged into the chair he currently settled in. Half-eaten burrito forgotten, his now human stomach rumbled in hunger and a mix of something that twisted his gut. Castiel thought he was dying all over again but he was physically fine so that wasn't it. It was something associated along the lines of dread, sadness and hurt. Castiel directed his gaze on the floor, refusing to look at the hunter above him. Maybe this was his long awaited penance, maybe Dean didn't need him anymore. For a long while, they remained like that until Castiel thought Dean was uncharacteristically quiet and looked up to observe his friend.

Castiel could almost feel the warring thoughts in the hunter's mind. Whatever was making Dean think so much was probably worrying. Facing the fact that his human friend wasn't exactly the 'think first, act later' kind of guy, watching him think at this moment was nothing short of disconcerting. As long as Castiel have known him, the older Winchester was brash, impulsive and blunt. He didn't tiptoe to make a point and he definitely didn't think so deeply for a time, like he was doing now. Before he could make further observations, Dean's eyebrows smoothed together and his face relaxed. He was done deciding something, Castiel realized. He imagined the gears in Dean's head  _click._

And so, decision finally made, Dean clapped Cas on the shoulder and looked into his too-blue eyes, "I'm really sorry Cas, but I'm trusting you. And you're gonna have to trust me too." Castiel cocked his head to the side, much like how he did when he had angel mojo and tried to piece the puzzle that is Dean Winchester. It looked like nothing much has changed. For that, Dean is comforted.

 

* * *

 

Sam was lounging at the table by his room, typing away in his precious laptop geeking at his usual geeky stuff (not that he'd ever admit his annoying older brother was right). It was still surreal for Sam. Cas dying, Dean making deals again, Cas coming back from the dead, then Cas having sex. He released a snort at that, who knew Castiel had the same rotten luck with women as the Winchesters?

Speaking of Cas, his older brother and the angel-turned-human retreated in the library, talking about god-knows-what. He knew the pair needed the time alone to sort things out. Like Cas finally sticking with them and the brothers teaching him all about humanity. Sam found himself liking the idea, even mentally reserving their friend a room in the bunker.

A throat clearing distracted Sam from his thoughts, and he whirled around to find his older brother leaning by the open door. "Hey man, how's Cas?" the younger Winchester had to ask.

"Peachy," Dean sighed, walking to Sam's bed and heavily sat down. His younger brother raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Right. 'Cause he's human now, just got killed and was resurrected 5 hours ago."

The older hunter sighed again and it was getting a bit annoying for Sam's nerves. "Something wrong, Dean?" He fixed his brother with a bitch face. Dean refused to meet his eyes while he said, "Cas says he's leaving. He decided he didn't like getting cooped up in the bunker. Says it's probably best to find his own place and all that jazz."

Sam shot him an incredulous look, trying to process what the other was saying. "You mean, we're letting  _Cas_  leave and survive alone in the outside world?" He slowly asked. "A world of human etiquette and modern rules? Dean, are you fucking crazy? You know what happened to him the first few weeks! He was homeless, he was starving, he got laid and he got stabbed!"

Dean watched his brother breathe heavily, his shoulders shaking in anger. He knew Sam wouldn't take kindly with the idea of Cas leaving and dammit, was he so not on-board with the idea either.

But he had to do the dirty work for all of them so he plowed on, "Dude, I know we're screwing with heaven and hell here. The angels fell, Cas is human now and you're healing from the trials. We're not ready for a war, man. And you know Cas, he's blaming himself for all this mess. He wants some time alone to clear his head and when the time comes, he'll come back here and help us sort it all out."

"Dammit, Dean! He's being hunted by the other angels. I don't think he's got time to 'clear his head', he is in danger. Dean, don't you care?" Sam asked. He looked pleadingly at Dean, "He's your  _best friend_."

Sam didn't know what the emotions Dean was feeling right that moment but he could swear a measure of hurt passed his face. Dean scrunched his eyes closed and pinched the bridge of nose, "I know. Goddammit, I know. This is harder for me than you know, Sam. But Cas wants out for a while and I admit, us and him spell disaster with the apocalyptic kind. Splitting up right now seems the safer way for Cas and for us. He's got the Enochian sigil tats and he may be human right now, but he's still got an arsenal of angelic knowledge stashed in that melon of his. Plus, Cas can be badass if he wants to be."

Sam understood where his brother was going with but still, this was Cas. He calmed down and thought it through. "Okay. Not ideal but if Cas really wants to go Moses on us, then I understand. But I'm worried he'll unknowingly get himself in trouble out there. I know the bunker is probably the safest place on earth. I just don't get how it'll be safer in a dump somewhere. I just don't get it."

Hearing the dejected tone in his little brother's voice formed a lump in Dean's throat. It wasn't helping with the situation but the hunter found himself grateful that Sam cared so much for their friend. Dean silently vowed he'll make everything right, starting with Cas.

"Me too, Sam. But it'll be temporary - I'll personally find Cas a place. Give him some fake I.D.s, fake credit cards and a good amount of cash. Then I'll check up on him every week, maybe you can too, if you want. Hell, you'll probably love shopping for his clothes, what with you being a girl 'n all,  _Samantha_." Dean grinned and Sam couldn't find it in him to be angry anymore.

Okay, so if Cas staying away from them would be good for his mental health then Sam would begrudgingly give his permission. He just hoped Castiel and Dean knew what the hell they were doing.

 

* * *

 

Castiel found goodbyes to be displeasing. True, he's said it many times to both Dean and Sam when he was still part of the Heavenly Host, but being human was quite different. For instance, he couldn't flit through time and space anymore, and he no longer has his wings, thus making him unable to go anywhere and whenever he pleases to. Humanity has so many flaws and he wonders how his two friends make it through the day. Apparently, it's another mystery piling with other mysteries about the human race.

Dean tapped him lightly on the arm, a slightly worried look on his face. "You okay, Cas?" Castiel blinked once, shaking himself from his stupor, "Yes, Dean." The hunter snorted at that but he doesn't comment on the poor lie. "Sammy's looking for you. He's got all the fake items you'll need already done, probably wanna give a hug or two." The ex-angel smiled at that.

Sam, always the gentler of the two, will always have Castiel's unwavering loyalty. Sam's not Dean but the younger Winchester has his fair share of sacrifices worthy of respect. He is proud of his newfound family and the farewells about to be given this day were going to leave a mark.

Dean and Cas made their way to the war room where the younger Winchester was fiddling with his laptop computer. "Aha! And…Done," Sam exclaimed triumphantly. He stood up from his place by the table and approached the other two.

"So, I did some magic and  _poof!_  you have your very own birth records, passport, driver's license and some I.D.s"

Castiel thanked the hunter then paused, "I never knew you were practicing witchcraft, Sam." Sam spluttered and Dean choked in barely contained laughter but Cas didn't seem to notice. "I know for a fact that Dean has a vexation with witches, so I do not recommend the use of magic to be wise."

Sam shook his head in amusement and quirked a lopsided smile, "It's not magic  _magic_ , Cas, but thanks for the heads-up." Castiel nodded but still looked confused.

The older Winchester coughed, masking his laughter but the twinkle in his eyes couldn't be mistaken otherwise. "So, I think it's best we go before the cicadas go chirping tonight, 'cause I'm not really into werewolves right now." Cas sighed and forlornly looked at the both of them, "I agree. Sam?"

Then all of a sudden, Sam found himself full of a hoody-clad Castiel, squeezing him with surprising strength for a human. It didn't take a second before the hunter reciprocated the hug and then pulled away. "I'll miss you, Cas. Be sure to come back in one piece." The ex-angel smiled warmly up at him and Sam grinned. Dean rolled his eyes. "Ugh, chick-flick alert. Okay, okay, break it up people. We're burning daylight here."

"Sure, Dean. Don't you wanna give Cas a hug too?" Teased his little brother. "Shut up, Sammy."

Castiel watched their familiar banter a little before hefting up the bag full of necessities, courtesy of Dean. "Bye, Sam. Take care."

"You too." With that, Sam passed his older brother and traded a knowing nod before retreating to the solitude of his room.

"C'mon, buddy. Let's put your gear on Baby and book a motel for the night. We need to talk." Cas followed his friend to the bunker's garage and opened the Impala's door on the passenger seat. Dean turned his keys in ignition and the car was humming with the familiar rumble of oil and smoke. They were five miles away from the location of the bunker when the hunter turned his head to briefly look at Cas and whispered, "I'm in way over my head, Cas."

Castiel jerked upright and shot him an inquisitive look. "Why? What's wrong? Is it something to do with Sam?" Dean nodded.

"Yeah, Sam, and the reason why I couldn't let you stay at the bunker."

Dean didn't explain further and Cas just stared at him, trying to discern what was exactly plaguing the hunter. A while passed, then some. And then Castiel was slightly dozing off when Dean decided to talk again. "Ezekiel, you know him?"

Ezekiel and him had met only a few times in heaven. Once, the angel was stationed in his garrison and they fought valiantly, protecting each other's backs, if not side by side. But that was half a millennium ago and Ezekiel still continued to serve heaven as a trustworthy angel. And Dean picked this all up from Castiel's war stories as they drove on the lonely night. The good news should've assured him but there was something nagging at him at the back of his mind.

Dean knows Cas is probably about to demand answers when he takes in a lungful of air and expels it slowly. "I made a deal with him – with Zeke. I had to save Sammy. You know how I can't live without  _Sam_ ," he confessed.

Oh, how Castiel  _knows._ And he doesn't judge Dean about the moral implications of whatever deal he had with the angel. Dean is silent again and Cas thinks he knows why his friend is going out on his way to help him, to tell him all about this secret. Dean wants to trust someone again. Dean still considers him, family. So he tells the Winchester the words he needs to hear.

"I understand, Dean, and I will never judge you for your reasons. Sam is family and you are family. You can trust me."


	2. Rules Are Made to Be Broken

So tonight was the night. Dean watched Cas approach with the key to their motel room and suddenly had the ridiculous urge to  _run_. He heard the resounding click of the lock as it gave away, the hunter immediately entering then closing the door after his friend. Dean put their duffel bags on the coffee table, a T.V. set and a mini-fridge accompanying it as the only decorations inside the mostly bare room.

Dean took a moment to think his plan over then braced himself. He turned to Castiel and deadpanned, "An angel condom." Silence. "I said... an angel condom."

Castiel's expression was one of bewilderment. "I-I don't think there's such a thing, Dean." Way to go for the 'don't beat around the bush' tactic.

The said human wearily scrubbed a hand to his face and let out a breath. Cas and Winchester vocabulary never mixed well, really. He cleared his throat and attempted to try again, maybe use some _technical terms_  while he's at it. That was until he caught the form of a huge comfy mattress behind the ex-angel.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean exclaimed as he fully registered the only furniture besides the two rickety chairs in the corner. "What the hell, man?!" He pointed a shaking finger at the bed accusingly. "I left you to pick a room and this is what you get? Cas, dudes," he indicated to himself then Castiel, "like us, don't sleep together on a single king!"

Cas cocked his head to the side and observed Dean's scandalized face. "Does the bed offend you, Dean? The lady at the desk asked about it and said a king was much more comfortable than a queen, especially for two people to sleep on. I did not understand the relevance of the question but I decided that a king sounded much better than a queen, so I followed her advice."

The hunter puckered his lips as if tasting something sour, "You do understand, that now, we have to sleep together?" He pointed again to give emphasis, "On  _that_?"

"Don't worry, I am a pleasant companion in bed," Castiel assured. Dean looked horrified. "Cas! Just... Just please, stop talking for a sec. God, I can't- son of a bitch!" then he proceeded to tear his hair out in exasperation. The ex-angel was worried the hunter would go bald.

Castiel didn't understand what the problem was but it was painfully apparent that it's about the king-sized bed. He took the liberty to examine the piece of furniture and found nothing odd except for a few lose springs here and there. He even tested the endurance by sitting on it and bouncing a little. Cas heard the hunter make a strangled noise.

"Cas, Cas! Stop doing that! C'mon, get up and have some dinner. We've got things to discuss, then later we'll talk about... about  _that_."

The angel-turned-human shrugged but obeyed, mimicking Dean as the hunter pulled out a chair from the coffee table and opened a plastic bag. The smell wafting through the different assorted food made Castiel's tongue water and his stomach make a familiar rumble. Dean noticed. "I bet you'd like cheeseburgers and pie. Pie, man, it's heaven on earth," he said blissfully.

"I think that metaphor is sorely misplaced," Cas muttered. The hunter sobered up, scratched the back of his neck, and looked him in the eyes, "Well, on a bad day, you have the terminator on your ass. On a good day, you get to eat pie with Dean Winchester." He winked and shoved a cheeseburger in his mouth.

This time, he smiled for real. Sometimes Castiel wondered how this Righteous Man became his friend and ally. This beautiful human being who fought for what he thought was right and kept saving lives without asking for anything in return. And here he was yet again, keeping a failure of an angel company in a run-down motel, eating fast-food when Dean had the bunker and Sam.

They ate in comfortable silence and when the ex-angel thought he was full, he spoke up. "I thank you, my friend. For being with me right now, for... for giving me something when I had nothing." Dean was quiet in his seat and Castiel glanced at him, surprised to find the hunter with red-rimmed eyes and a thunderous expression. Cas panicked, not knowing what he did wrong and so, said the first thing that came to mind - apologize.

"Oh, Dean... I'm really sorry. It was all my fault - Naomi, Metatron, Sam. I should have trusted you more. I should have-"

"Shut up!" Dean cut him off harshly. "Shut up, Cas. Or I swear to god, I will shut that mouth myself. It's not your freakin fault, you featherbrained asshole! It's not. Okay? I know you, man. You wouldn't do a lick o those things if we were there for you - If I was there for you... So don't go around and fucking throw yourself to something suicidal again, like purgatory! Or I will personally kill you, you bastard."

Dean's chest was heaving when he was done. He didn't even know he had stood up when he felt the back of his knees hit the chair. The expression in Cas's face was so utterly human that it was comical. But the hunter didn't laugh, so that had to say something about the mood right then.

Castiel also stood up from his seat and tentatively grasped the Winchester's left shoulder, right where his celestial hand had branded it. They stared at each other, intense and electric. Conveying all the unsaid words and emotions that only their profound bond allowed them to do. The world stopped for them during those long moments. Both only seeing each other, the warmest green and the coldest blue.

But then the spell broke and they simultaneously looked away, Cas's hand falling to his side. Dean cleared his throat and nodded as if to some agreement. They both sagged down to their seats, the tension already dissipating.

"I'm still sorry, Dean. I'm sorry for everything," Castiel softly whispered.

Watching the scrunched eyebrows and the deep worry lines on his friend's face, Dean had a glimpse at how old Cas actually was. Older than dirt and yet apologizing to a three decade old baby. "I'm sorry too, buddy. But we're gonna make this work - make everything right. Me, you and Sammy. Team Free Will." He made sure to give Castiel the biggest and cheesiest grin he could muster. The hunter was rewarded with a low chuckle.

"Now eat your goddamn dessert. We don't waste pie around here."

 

* * *

 

"So, what's this about Sam and Ezekiel?" Castiel asked, turning off the T.V. after an hour of Dr. Sexy M.D. at Dean's urging. Even with the hunter's prattling about the pros and cons of cowboy boots, he still didn't understand how the shoes made Dr. Sexy, sexy. It was so confusing- a doctor wearing something like that seemed unsanitary and not to mention, very unconventional. With the recent episode stashed at the back of his mind for the mean time, Cas watched the hunter shift uneasily beside him. 

"Zeke and the Geek," Dean declared. He tilted his head a little, chin turned downwards. "Sam was about to finish the trials..." he started. Cas could see the pain in his eyes when he said this. Apparently, the younger Winchester really wanted to 'throw in the towel' as Dean would put it.

The older Winchester drove as fast as he could, as far as he could just to get there in time. He told Castiel how he feared for Sam that day. How scared he was that his little brother was going to die to save the world and leave him in it, old and alone. Dean described Sam's pale, drawn face. The skin below his eyes was bruised and sunken, and his hair was matted with sweat. He didn't even register the state Crowley was in because he only had eyes for Sam. Then the bitch actually didn't even care after Dean came and said Sam would die. That just did it for the hunter.

Castiel listened intently on every detail, his eyes widening every few times. "But you stopped him."

He nodded, "Then things went from worse to the freaking Armageddon. Sam collapsed, dying in my arms when the angels literally fell. Like a sick parody of fireworks on the fourth of July."

Castiel could still taste the burning ozone mingled with the cries of his brothers and sisters. He should've been with them, falling to the earth like any proper angel would have but he was transported by Metatron, utterly graceless with a front row seat to watch heaven crumble. He made a small noise at the back of his throat. If Dean noticed it, he didn't let on.

"I drove us to the hospital. He never woke up that day so the doctors hooked him up to machines, said he was in a coma. Obviously." Dean glanced at him, "Then I prayed - for you, but you didn't show up, so..." He left the significance of the sentence hang between them.

"You prayed for someone, anyone, to help you." Dean nodded.

"That was very stupid of you, Dean," Cas grind out, "Angels were everywhere and all of them had a bone to pick with you - guilty by association with the rebel." He sighed and went on, "But it was for Sam, so naturally, I'll forgive you for your stupidity."

He couldn't fault Dean, not really. After all, he helped make the mess they were currently in, albeit unwillingly.

The hunter barked a short laugh, "I knew you'd say that but thanks. Anyway,  _angels_  man, they're bigger dicks without wings - no offense." Castiel quirked an eyebrow. Should he feel insulted or not?

"Two angels came. The other one tried to kill me, no surprise there, and the other was Zeke. He saved me; I dumped him in a ring of holy fire."

Yep, Dean Winchester wasn't so big at trusting random angels. He asked him for a name and the angel said he wanted to help, so to hell with it, he accepted. Then the hunter dragged him to Sam's death bed to work his angel mojo. Dean should've known things never went simple in their line of work. More angels possessed the hospital staff, intent on interrogating Dean and capturing Castiel but the hunter didn't back down. Even after destroying all the dickbags, Ezekiel ended up weakened by the protection sigils Dean had set up in Sammy's room.

The angel couldn't heal the younger Winchester. He said he was too far gone and the hunter demanded for another way to heal Sam. Zeke said he could only do it  _inside._

"Angel possession," Cas cut in, "Ezekiel possessed Sam."

"Ezekiel is  _possessing_  Sam," Dean corrected, visibly uncomfortable. Realization dawned on Castiel. So that was the reason why he couldn't stay at the bunker. Sam was acting as an angel vessel with the angel acting dormant - or not. This would mean that Ezekiel had a few words with Dean to kick him out. The reasons why he did this, Castiel has yet to know. So many things didn't make any sense but he refrained from voicing them out yet.

The ex-angel whipped his head to look at Dean, "When I died... It wasn't April who brought me back, was she?" Dean looked sheepish to say the least. "Uh, about that, i lied. Again."

"And what of this deal you spoke of?" Cas prompted. Dean rubbed the area between his brows. He could feel an annoying headache already forming, "That's the problem here, Cas. Zeke said the healing would go both ways. He heals Sammy while healing himself - says he got injured. So the deal was him staying for a while until Sam got better, while I keep my mouth shut if I didn't want him to get ejected."

Cas was surprised, "Sam was in a coma... and he still doesn't know. Then how-"

"I helped him trick Sammy thinking it was me in his head. Making him say yes before Death took him. I mean, it was friggin'  _Death_ , Cas! I was scared shitless and it seemed like the only choice." Dean guiltily looked down at his worn-out boots.

A hand grasped his upper arm, the comfortable weight anchoring him. Dean knew Cas didn't judge but he still had the irrational fear of seeing something other than  _Cas_  in Castiel's eyes.

"Dean, look at me." Dean didn't really want to and he sighed in surrender. Cas wasn't an angel anymore, but the hunter could swear his now-human-eyes shone with a holy iridescent blue under the low light. He stared, mesmerized.

"When it comes to family, we do things that aren't actually right. But we do them anyway because, sometimes, it's the only thing we can do. And nothing you do for family is ever wrong." Cas smiled at the hunter for good measure, silently sympathizing that he understood. The civil war in heaven proved it, him dying over and over for the Winchesters cemented it.

Dean felt lighter than he could ever remember being. Like the weight of Sammy and the world didn't only rest in his shoulders. And it was true, Castiel came to their lives and everything changed. Maybe it wasn't always rainbows and unicorns but damn if the once-angel didn't become one of them. An honorary Winchester in the same stubbornness and spunk that went with it.

He gave Cas a pat on the back twice, "You're the best pal, buddy but I'm not really a good role model… and this is turning into a chick-flick moment. I'd rather not grow girly parts before this conversation's over."

Castiel looked intrigued at the idea then he asked, lips quirking, "Another one of your 'Winchester Commandments'?" The ex-angel finger quoted.

"Was that blasphemy, Cas?" He laughed. Cas's poor attempt at humor had succeeded. "But you bet your feathery ass it is. 'No chick-flick moments,' keep that in mind." The ex-angel didn't point out how many times Dean broke that rule in one day.

"The thing is... Zeke threatened to leave Sam's body if I didn't kick you out. He's hiding something, Cas, and I don't like it one bit."

Castiel nodded, "I figured as much. The angels are hunting me after all and Ezekiel would be much safer without me in the picture. But…"

But it was too suspicious. The angel, Ezekiel, that Cas knew was far too honorable and this – hiding – was cowardly. Ezekiel may have chosen sides with the Winchesters but surely, he would've let Castiel stay. They were once brothers-in-arms in the battlefield, they had history together. Then came the question to why exactly would the good Ezekiel fear his brothers and sisters. He didn't participate in the civil war in heaven; he was neither an enemy nor an ally of any of them.

"I think it's time I tapped on angel radio again, find some leads."

Dean released a breath, relieved they were at least starting on something productive, "Yeah, Cas. You do that."

 

* * *

 

The clock just ticked 12:18 when Dean saw his now-human-friend propped up on the bed, covering a yawn. He left Castiel for a few hours on a supply run, presumably so the dude could concentrate on eavesdropping. So far, jack squat. Cas said it'd be a pain to distinguish the voices and the strain of listening too long was visible in his pinched eyebrows and sweating forehead. The hunter thought that was enough for the night. Done putting the groceries in the hotel's mini-fridge, he tapped Cas on the shoulder.

"Don't get your panties in a bunch, Cinderella. It's bed time for you." Then Dean winced as he remembered their predicament from earlier. "Dude, seriously, rule number two – 'No sleeping together.'" Cas looked tired but amused, "Yes, Dean, but just for today?"

"Yeah, yeah, just for today, and wipe that smirk off your face! I will bury you if you breathe a word to Sam, capisce?"

"I capisce."

Dean shook his head in mock annoyance then began stripping down to only his pants and shirt. He rubbed his hands together and motioned for Cas to scoot over, "Hey, Huggy Bear! make some room for me. Don't hog all the space."

Castiel moved to the far right, allowing the hunter to climb on the bed and lie down beside him. Dean tucked an arm behind his head while Cas folded his hands on his chest. No one said anything for a while. Only their quiet steady breathing filled the silent room.

So many thoughts raced in Dean's head, none of them the happy kind. What they would have to pay for Dean's reckless decisions, what they would have to do if it turned out Ezekiel was bad news, what they would have to sacrifice to make everything right. The hunter constantly worried about Sam and now he was going to worry about Cas as well. He never had to worry about Castiel. The dude was a rock in Dean's book; he always seemed so immovable, indestructible, powerful. Sure, Cas got injured and he even died a few times but he always came back alive 'n kickin', complete with angel mojo and a halo.

Now, Dean could probably punch the daylights out of him and Castiel wouldn't even be able to heal a broken nose. "Cas?" He whispered to the lump of shadow on his right.

The lump shifted and whispered back, "Yes, Dean?" Cas's gravelly voice giving the hunter Goosebumps. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it, not really knowing what to say. Nothing he'd say would make the situation better for his best friend, so he resorted to his usual flippant manner.

"Don't let the bed bugs bite."

A pause, then, "Goodnight to you too, Dean."

Dean heard rather than saw the smile creep on his friend's face. The hunter went to sleep with Cas's warmth beside him and knowing that he could still make Castiel smile.

 


	3. News and Déjà Vus

A shrill ringing woke the younger Winchester from his place atop a pile of books. He jerked up, looking completely disoriented and shaggy hair sticking out in all directions. Sam looked around wildly, registering the soft feel of chair cushion and a dinner bell ringing in his head. Or not. Someone was calling his cell phone, the few people he knows, all of which will surely bite his head off for not picking up sooner. He scrambled from his slumped position, limbs flailing awkwardly trying to find the darn phone.

"Dammit!" Sam cursed. The ringing stopped suddenly right when the hunter spied the smooth black edge of the device. He hastily walked towards its hiding place and stumbled at a few carelessly thrown Men of Letters folders. Sam fished the Smartphone from below a mountain of scattered local newspapers.

The screen read, '11 missed calls' from Kevin Tran. Before the younger Winchester could even move a muscle, the phone started ringing again. He tapped the answer button and held the phone to his ear. "Kev? Kevin, what-"

"Would it kill you to pick the phone up after two rings?!" Kevin shouted from the speakers. Sam flinched. Yeah, the kid would about bite anyone's head off. "Sorry Kev, I fell asleep and couldn't find my cell-"

"Whatever. Listen, I just remembered something important in the angel tablet. I want to go check it out again, find something to help you jerks with the whole mess-," Kevin said hurriedly. The prophet had cut him off for the second time in three minutes and Sam felt more guilty than annoyed. Poor kid was dragged into their crazy lives and it didn't look like he was getting out anytime soon.

"-so I'm going back to the bunker, do some research. I know you Men of Letter Openers-"

"Letters. The Men of Letters," Sam corrected, aghast but Kevin could care less. "-have everything and I mean  _everything_  angel-related so, yeah. Tell Dean I called, he better make something edible because I am  _starving_." The call ended abruptly leaving the hunter hanging. He slowly shook his head, trying to organize the information the prophet just shoved in his face.

So the kid remembered something important and they were going to do some research. It didn't sound so bad; actually it sounded like good enough news to him. Research. Yeah, that Sam could do, but wait, cooking? Dean was very obviously not at the bunker and knowing him, he'd probably stay with Cas for a few more days and the younger Winchester would gladly give him those days to help their friend settle in safely.

Seriously though, Sam was a kitchen menace. The hunter couldn't probably cook to his save his life. He only lived off cold leftovers and coffee whenever Dean wasn't home. Sam figured he could maybe borrow a car in the garage and make a quick grocery run - preferably the healthy kind. But first, he needed to call Dean.

He tapped Dean's name and waited for his older brother to answer. Five rings later, Dean's groggy voice crackled followed by a yawn (a huge one by the sound of it), "Sammy?"

Sam spied the clock on the wall and realized it was only a few minutes after six a.m. "Hey, Dean, sorry to wake you up. You guys good? No trouble last night?"

"Mmm," Dean made a smacking sound and Sam could sense the older hunter was drifting once again to sleep.

"Dean! Just listen for a minute," the younger Winchester made his tone a little louder, hopeful that Dean would at least pay attention to the sound of his voice. "Kevin called just a minute ago and he's coming here for research. He said he thinks there's something in the angel tablet that could help us. Dean? Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Sam could hear a rustling of sheets and a pained grunt, then what sounded like Castiel cursing in Enochian through the phone. "Dean. Dean? You okay? Did you wake Cas up?"

Dean growled at his younger brother, "No genius,  _you_  woke Cas up. I just got tangled in the sheets and kicked him down the bed! Now he's gonna have a bitchy episode thanks to you."

The younger Winchester couldn't find it in himself to feel pity for his brother but still found the balls to snicker at Dean. Then something that the hunter said caught up to him. "Wai-wait. Did you just say... you and Cas were sharing a bed?" Sam swore the older Winchester on the other line choked. Yahtzee! Oh man, Sam Winchester was going to have a blast with that information.

Dean could only imagine the worst of his nightmares coming true because the younger hunter surely won't let this chance pass him up.

"Bitch!" His older brother yelled. "Don't let me get you, Sammy! You better pull your mind outta the gutter and tell me what Kevin said."

The older Winchester trying to change subjects and talking his way out was precious. Sam snorted and covered his mouth to keep himself from outright guffawing. Dean sounded vexed, "I can hear you, Sam." Then Castiel's low rumbles of, "Sam?" could be heard through Dean's teeth-grinding.

He'll have lots of time to tease Dean when he gets back. In the mean time, "Okay, Jerk. Now put me on speaker, Cas should know about this too." There was a beep, signaling that the two men on the other line had their ears on.

"Hi, Cas! How was sleep?" Sam couldn't resist asking. Dean loudly grumbled but Castiel was unsurprisingly clueless. "It was... very nice. Though Dean snored next to my ear. He also kicked me awake and I fell down on the floor - which was rather unpleasant."

And Cas just confirmed their not-so-secret bed-sharing. The younger hunter stretched a shit-eating grin on his face. "Sam..." Dean warned.

Sam cleared his throat, "Right. Anyway, our resident prophet just called and he's coming here to do some research. And get this... Kevin said there was something important in the tablet that could help us open the gates of heaven or something."

"Or something. Heh, that's the best news I've heard ever since the apocalypse, Sammy!" Dean quipped, ecstatic. Beside him, Cas gave the hunter a small smile. Even the ex-angel thought it was good news. Dean felt things were finally looking up.

Sam wanted to share the enthusiasm but they had to be sure first. "Not liking to burst anyone's bubble but Kevin's not so sure. That's why he's going to the bunker in the first place."

The older Winchester sounded nonplussed, "And you're gonna help, right? I mean, you two're both geeks. That already counts a hundred times than with lil old me."

"Well, he did want to tell you he called, but I couldn't get a word in to say you were out before he hanged up. You guys don't have to worry 'cause Dean's useless on 'boring stuff' anyway. So we'll handle the research here and I'll call when something's up, keep you posted."

Dean clapped once, visibly overjoyed. "That's my Sammy! Okay little bro, don't let Kevin find the alcohol and don't you dare touch the kitchen while I'm gone. Go buy some salad and health puke for all I care."

"Got it, Dean," Sam drawled. "Catch you later, man. Bye Cas!"

Castiel nodded even though Sam couldn't see it, and then the call disconnected. Dean rolled his eyes at his friend. Cas was going to need a Human 101 lecture from the hunter. First one on the list - breakfast!

 

* * *

 

Omaha was the biggest city in the state of Nebraska, and like most big cities, Dean could still find the cheapest motels and the finest diners like any local. He and Castiel drove two hours later after Sam called to an okay-looking establishment. The sign above the building read, Hot Mama's Diner. The place wasn't exactly fancy shmancy but the food certainly smelled like a hundred bucks. Dean bet it tasted like it too.

He didn't even think twice to ogle at the pretty looking waitresses and playfully nudged Cas. "Me want some Hot Mama. You want some Hot Mama, Cas?" the hunter asked as Castiel moved to open the door of the diner.

The ex-angel shot him his signature look - all scrunched eyebrows and squinty eyes. "Are you... insinuating a similar version of that den of iniquity you brought me to?"

Dean snorted at the mistrustful tone in Cas's voice. It wasn't like the dude was actually a virgin anymore so the older Winchester didn't understand his friend's attitude. Maybe it came with originally being an angel, mortal sins and all that 'I Am Holier than Thou' crap.

"Sheesh. Loosen up a little, man. It was a joke, nothing serious... mostly", he shrugged and waved at Castiel in a 'go on' gesture. His now-human friend gave him one last disapproving look and went in.

Maybe the hunter underestimated the place a little. Dean's mouth began to water at the mixed aromas of freshly brewed coffee and fried food. He then took a moment to appreciate a petite blonde waitress in an almost skimpy red uniform and sighed. Dean  _loved_ the diner already. He felt a sharp insistent tug on his sleeve and glanced at the person beside him.

The hunter was half-surprised to discover a very awkward, very uncomfortable-looking Castiel. "Don't be such a baby, Cas," he teased lightly, knowing that the ex-angel was probably feeling overwhelmed with all the sights, sounds and smells.

Feeling a little guilty, Dean took the initiative to find them an empty table. Having spotted a recently vacated spot, he grabbed Castiel by the arm and maneuvered them through the dizzying maze of grumpy morning people and highly-caffeinated teenagers. Cas gratefully plopped into his seat.

"I don't know about this, Dean. Being human well, as you put it,  _sucks ass._

Dean nodded, Don't I know it, buddy. But like I said, one of the perks of being human is that you got to enjoy the little things, y know. No 'Big Picture' and no one yanking on your leash.

Castiel didn't comment about Dean being human and repeatedly risked his life to save the world. No one was yanking the hunter's leash but he certainly thought he had no choice in the matter. Still, he appreciated his friend's words, taking them at heart. He glanced around their table and spotted the folded Menus beside the salt and pepper shakers. He grabbed them and gave one to Dean.

"Breakfast?" Cas asked, cocking an eyebrow at the hunter.

The Winchester mirrored his expression, a little impressed. "So you do learn." Cas grinned at him.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Dean."

Before the hunter could fire another witty retort, the blonde waitress from earlier approached their table. Castiel curiously squinted at her and she beamed a bright smile.

"Good morning and welcome to Hot Mama's! May I take your orders?" She chirped, high and energetic.

The ex-angel knew this drill already, but he still observed how Dean turned on his charm and winked at the waitress. The blonde girl reacted by adjusting her stance a little, showing a little skin then smiling coyly at the hunter. If anyone asked Castiel how exactly humans find their mates, he would say that it mainly consisted of batting eyelashes.

He waited for the activity to pass and then Dean turned to him. "You like coffee, Cas?" Castiel thought for a moment before confirming, "Yes, I think so."

The hunter looked at the Menu in his hands, eyes reading fervently through the paper. He said something about a black and a latte then two orders of the same food and what sounded like Pecan pie. The blonde waitress wrote it all down and smiled at their orders.

"Please wait for a few minutes, your orders'll be right up!" She eyed Dean first then surprisingly, Cas too, and sauntered off.

"Man, I like this place. They've got great girls and even greater food. Think you'd like staying here, Cas? Omaha's only three and a half hours away from the bunker."

The ex-angel swiveled his head to look at his surroundings, taking note of the many unfamiliar faces eating and conversing in an almost automatic manner. The ambiance of the place was both refreshing and rushed but Castiel had to admit he liked the place too. It also didn't hurt that Dean and Sam could come to him whenever they liked and vice versa. He directed his gaze to Dean's face, "It will do."

The clatter of dishes and coffee mugs interrupted the pair's musings as their food was being served. The older Winchester gave Cas his latte and a plate full of scrambled eggs, bacon, sausages and buttered toast.

"The breakfast of champions!" Dean declared, "Eat up, Cas. We still have some Pecan pie and they say Nebraska makes the best."

Cas gave an all-too-human eye roll at the hunter and commented, "The grease in all this is worrying, Dean. Are you sure it's not 'The breakfast of heart attacks'?"

Dean scowled, "You sound like Sam - the health freak, and hell yeah, I'm sure. Not the best time to develop a sense of humor, Columbo."

Castiel picked up his fork and gingerly stabbed a sausage with it. Dean was already making obscene noises with the food and Cas was more than a little reluctant to dig in. He took a small bite out of the fried food and thought that maybe Dean's love in greasy things wasn't so badly misplaced.

 

* * *

 

"Where's your brother?" Kevin yelled from the Winchester's kitchen, presumably riffling through Sam's bag of groceries. The prophet made a small sound of victory as the younger Winchester entered through the door.

He scratched the back of his neck, "He's, uh, out with Cas in Omaha." Right, the kid didn't know about Castiel turning human. It looked like he's in-charge with breaking-up-the-news duty to everybody. Sam spied Kevin taking out a can and an assortment of nick-knacks.

The kid munched on a chocolate muffin. "Cas? As in Castiel, the dick angel?" He gulped, preoccupied with the pastry, "Not bad."

"Cas's not a dick if you get to know him," The younger Winchester placated, immediately defending his friend. Kevin snorted at that then sipped an unhealthy amount of soda.

"Yeah, well, I did. He shoved me on a wall and let's say me and the angel didn't really hit it right off the bat. What's the story with him and Dean anyway? They seem... oddly attached to each other," the prophet made a gagging sound.

Looking right now at Kevin devour a day worth of food in the bunker's kitchen, revealed something to Sam. Like, yeah, Cas and Dean  _are_  oddly attached to each other - no surprise there. But like how the Winchesters never really talked about their past to anyone, except for the dead ones, whom the hunter didn't want to think about. So that'd mean Kevin didn't know a single thing that happened before they met him. Nothing about yellowed eyed Azazel or Sam's freaky psychic powers and demon blood addiction. Not about the apocalypse, or Lucifer possessing him and their youngest brother, Adam, in the cage.

And how Sam died the first time around, then Dean making a crossroads deal and finally going to hell the year after. The younger Winchester was about to flip off the prophet's question but thought against it. Dean would definitely chew his brother out for this if he'd knew, but screw him if Kevin wasn't practically family. Plus, they owed him enough already.

The kid might've sensed something from Sam's demeanor because he popped the last bit of poptart in his mouth before staring up at him and waiting. Sam cleared his throat, adam's apple bobbing nervously. "Do you know how Castiel and Dean met?"

It was a simple and innocent question but Kevin knew there was more to the story than anything, so he shook his head. Both curious and knowing he'd probably regret bringing up the topic in the first place. Sam walked to his place at the kitchen table and pulled out a chair in front of him. Kevin surmised this was going to take a while.

"Dean made a deal with a crossroads demon seven years ago to save my life. The demon only gave him a year before sealing the deal."

The prophet widened his eyes and squeaked a small,"Say what?" He gulped audibly, "Doesn't that mean..."

Sam sighed and nodded his confirmation. Dean was gone for a little than four months but in hell, it was 30 years of pure torture and another unspeakable ten for his older brother. He didn't want to reveal the nitty gritty details to Kevin but he did talk about Dean showing up at Sam's doorstep, a day fresh out from his graveyard and their violent reunion.

"But... how?" Kevin whispered. The hunter uncomfortably shifted in his seat. "We came to a psychic named Pamela," Sam's voice trembled a little as he said the name, "because when Dean got out, a handprint was branded in his arm and we needed to know who or what pulled him out. But then, Pamela got her eyes burned for trying to see the culprit."

The prophet understood now, quite disbelievingly though, because he could've never imagined  _this_. But of course with angels and demons, anything was possible. He stared at Sam. "Castiel?"

"Cas saved Dean from hell on heaven's orders. He showed right up after a few days, mostly being on angel business for the whole apocalypse thing." Kevin breathed sharply through his nose. Apocalypse? But Sam went on, clearly not wanting to breach the subject and the prophet didn't argue with him.

"Then Castiel rebelled against the douchebag angels, so he and Dean stuck. We all did."

"Huh."

The younger Winchester sighed and added, "So Dean's off to Nebraska to help Cas find a safe place. Like witness protection. He couldn't stay with us in the bunker." Kevin's expression was confused.

"You gotta know, Kev, after the angels fell, Metatron... um, made Cas, one of us." And that Crowley was practically human-like too, currently chained in their dungeon. But he didn't say it out loud. The King of Hell was another issue that he'd have to break to the kid at a later a date.

If Kevin had a drink right now, he would have made an impressive spit-take. "He's human?!"

"Very," stressed the hunter. He looked at the prophet but not quite, as if seeing something far away. "I was taking the hell trials when Metatron tricked Cas into doing heaven's. But it was actually the spell that made every angel fall to earth. He was the final ingredient and... that's how we got into this whole mess."

"Doesn't that make him responsible for everything?" Kevin cautiously asked, not knowing who to blame and wished he didn't have to think about it.

The look in Sam's eyes said that it was the opposite. He wore a tired smile, "If there's anyone who could screw up as badly as Cas, it'd be me and Dean. We're all trying our damnedest to make things better and then things just go south. It's a curse."

"Yeah, you guys are pretty much bad luck," the kid replied bluntly. Sam fixed him his hurt kicked-puppy dog face but Kevin didn't look affected. "I didn't go to college, a demon killed my girlfriend and my mom's...

This-this 'responsibility' as the prophet of the lord ruined my life. But the thing is, it wasn't your fault. I can't blame you guys for trying to save everyone - for doing the right thing. So I'll do my job, because I'm with you on this one, Sam."

Sam didn't know what to do first, cry or laugh or hug Kevin and don't let go. He opted for the less awkward thing to do. The hunter cleared his throat gave him a big smile, "You're the best, Kevin."

Kevin returned the smile. "Hell yeah." He stood up from the table and washed his hands in the kitchen sink. "We should probably go hit the books while it's early. I wanna keep translating the tablet. There's something in there that was ominously eye-catching." He faced Sam and found the hunter pause at his work cleaning the table. "What was it, Kev?"

The prophet leaned by the counter and folded his arms, "The Hand of God."

 

* * *

 

"What d'ya want to do now, Cas?" Dean asked as he and Castiel exited a department store from a particularly long but entertaining shopping for clothes.

The older Winchester picked mostly of his friend's wardrobe and it included mostly of jackets, some long-sleeved shirts and a couple of plaids. He let Cas pick the pants and underwear, and the ex-angel even liked some of the collared thingies called polos and dress shirts. Dean didn't really care if his clothes were pricey or not but he was concerned enough to help Cas's fashion statement.

The sun was still up but it was obviously a few hours after noon. Cas figured they should use the time finding information on Ezekiel using angel radio but the hunter didn't want to hear any of it. "It is crucial we find a solution to this, Dean. I rather we have one sooner than later."

Dean dumped their shopping bags in the backseat of the Impala, and sat at the wheel, Cas settling shotgun. He looked at the ex-angel, "I'm not saying it isn't important but we need to be prepared. Better safe than sorry, buddy." Castiel looked away, head facing the car's window.

The hunter paused, an idea lighting up in his head. "You don't even know how to fire a gun. Now do you?"

Castiel uncomfortably rubbed the back of his neck. The action made the older Winchester reminisce fun times and he chuckled soundlessly.

"Right-o! We're playing cops 'n cowboys today." Cas made an annoyed growl, "I have my angel blade, I don't see the necessity of learning how to fire a gun."

Dean clicked his tongue at him. "That's where your wrong, Mr. Know-It-All. Having a gun is pretty much a necessity nowadays, you'd be ganked in a dump somewhere if you don't have one. Now, I don't take 'No's for an answer so you better strap on that seat belt, Cas, 'cause we're on a roll!"

He heard the tale-tell click of the passenger's seat belt not a second after he said the sentence. Castiel and Dean stared at each other for a long awkward moment then the hunter harrumphed. "Really, Cas?" He asked, sarcasm coating every word. "I didn't mean -" Dean shook his head in exasperation. "Nevermind." The Winchester pulled the Impala into drive and glared at the offending dirt on his windshield.

Cas hid a smirk in the passenger seat as Dean grumbled about 'Babysitting' and 'Awkward nerdy angels'.

 


	4. It's Hunting Time

"Dean..."

"For the last time, Cas... shoot!"

After a brief glaring contest with the hunter, Castiel reluctantly faced the target (which looked too far for his preference). He hefted up the .22 caliber LR semi-automatic pistol that Dean procured somewhere inside the firing range. He rehearsed the steps the Winchester drilled in his head - legs apart, back straight, shoulders relaxed and arms steady. He took a second to find balance, the weight of the gun in his hands was unusual but not uncomfortable nor unpleasant.

Cas inhaled then exhaled slowly, aimed and... fired! There was a loud _crack_ , then the bullet punched a hole through the circle nearest the red target. The ex-angel never felt so relieved. He turned to Dean and found the hunter grinning, pride evident in his face. His friend gave him a thumbs-up.

They spent another hour repeating rounds of shooting, Dean switching with him to show off his skills. The hunter shot the bullseye everytime and Castiel not too far.

"That was awesome, man, _awesome_."

He clapped Castiel on the back. "See? Was that so hard? I swear, Cas, I'm gonna turn you into a great shot!" Dean quipped.

Cas made a non-comittal noise, pretending to act as if the hunter's approval didn't just made his human situation a bit easier, or gave his ongoing existence a meaning - or something like that. "I _am_ a quick learner, Dean."

"That just sounds to me like your bragging," his friend chuckled, "but I think that's good too. Confidence - you'll need it."

Dean tapped the seat next to him to indicate that Cas needed some time-out. He conceded, dragging his weary feet towards the hunter. The ex-angel was yet to get used to the limitations of humanity. It was surprising and disappointing how fast the human body got tired, and how much time and energy it needed to recuperate. Even just standing for a few hours like he did on the firing range made him feel heavy and sweaty. Not to mention, already thirsty and a bit hungry. It was ridiculous. They just ate a mere 4 hours ago and now it's all gone! Life as a human just got harder and harder, it seemed.

Good thing he had Dean, though. The hunter was kind enough to help him get through the process (a very long process, mind) but he was willing to do so, and Castiel was too grateful and too glad to resist.

The firing range they were particularly in only had a few people. Their shots rang randomly, some even wildly, and the angel-turned-human thanked the ear mufflers on his head. He wasn't very convinced of the practical use of these guns but it was interesting firing one.

Dean and Castiel went for another round of shooting before leaving the range. By the time they went out, they were both surprised to see an already darkening sky with a visible moon overhead. Dean figured they could go back to the motel first and change rooms. To hell was he sleeping beside Cas of all people. So call him fussy, or insecure, but a second night all cuddled up with a grown man was not on his bucket list.

Dinner would have to wait.

Cas only raised an amused eyebrow and rolled his eyes at the hunter as Dean explained the predicament. The ex-angel really didn't see the problem there. Yes, it might be strange for _normal_ people but they were, in all sense of the word, not _normal_ people.

He and Dean are friends (if not more than friends), what with the whole 'profound bound' about souls and grace that he himself doesn't even understand, and brothers-in-arms, possibly what might come close to being a real family. They've been through so much - the apocalypse, leviathans, purgatory. So it really wouldn't be unusual for them, but Castiel didn't bother to express any of those things to the older Winchester. It was better to leave Dean with his masculinity issues and deal with it than making it more difficult for his friend.

Speak of the devil and he shall call you on it. "Don't judge me," Dean said gruffly. Cas shrugged, playing at nonchalance, "I didn't say anything."

"Yeah, but you might as well have 'cause I can freaking hear you thinkin' 'bout it!"

Dean stomped away to get their things and refused to acknowledge the ex-angel's presence, even as they got odd looks from the motel clerk when the hunter asked to change to a two-person bedroom. He was definitely not sulking about Cas having that knowing look when people think he's acting too 'butch' (thanks Sammy). Definitely not sulking.

After cooling his head, Dean resolved to put the entire matter off of his mind and hollered at Castiel to get his ass in the car. His awkward friend had the decency to look apologetic as he trudged toward the Impala and leaned on Dean's window. "I see you've stopped sulking. If it's of any consolation, I apologize."

The hunter put on a smirk, "I don't know what you're talkin' about, Cas."

The night passed by in a blur, Castiel only paying attention to certain things, like food and angel radio.

They still went to Hot Mama's and their meal consisted of pizza and pasta, and on Dean's insistence - beer. He didn't remember much of dinner but he did remember the Winchester smugly teasing him, "C'mon Cas, you're better than this! One bottle and you're hammered?"

It was hazy but he may or may not have chucked Dean's head not-so-lighty for laughing at him. It would've left a considerable bump if he did. Alcohol certainly had different effects on his human and angel physiologies.

Cas was embarrassed to say the least but thankfully, he sobered up by the time they went back to the motel. Dean unceremoniously collapsed on his bed as Castiel settled comfortably on his. He immediately opened angel radio and delved into it, concentrating on the voices in a sort of meditative trance.

By the time the ex-angel was shaken by Dean, it was nearing sunrise. The hunter's sleep-mussed hair stood up in all directions, spiky looking, and Castiel wanted to comment on it. He didn't however, since he wasn't even aware of his eyes slowly closing. The last thing he remembered before sinking in blissful oblivion was a gentle hand guiding his shoulder to the pillow. He slept soundly, though he never dreamed...

When Castiel woke up, it was to the delicious smell of waffles and the promise of caffeine. He saw Dean already sipping on a cup, reading what looked like a stack of newspapers. There was a missing person notice on the back with the picture of a 20 something year-old woman. The hunter looked up from his spot on the coffee table and greeted the ex-angel. "Good morning, Cas. Nice bedhead."

"Not particularly," Cas stated as he blinked away sleep and got up, stretching as he did. "I feel like a cherub on his first day of training though." He curiously touched the ruffled mess on top of his head and couldn't stop the image of Dean's porcupine hair popping up in his mind's eye.

That piqued the Winchester's interest. "And how would you describe that exactly?" Castiel struggled to find a word but came up with nothing appropriate. "It is... grueling," _close_ _enough_ , "I believe I wouldn't be able to flap a feather."

Dean snorted on his coffee, "Dude, did you just referenced an angel version of 'lift a finger'?"

"I... believe so?" Human expressions were still abstract to him at this point. Castiel left the hunter to his amusement and grabbed a waffle and a cup of coffee. He inhaled the sweetness of the food before digging in.

Dean steepled his fingers as he faced Cas on the other side of the table, newspaper and drink temporarily forgotten. "So? Any word on angel radio?"

"It's..." Castiel paused, his mouth full, then gulped before continuing, "strange. Ezekiel's name isn't mentioned once and I didn't sense any trace of his voice - or grace, for that matter, and believe me, I've gone through every angel chatter there is."

That wasn't very comforting at all. "And you know all these angels?" Dean asked.

"I'd like to think that I know every angel in creation. So yes, Dean, I know all these angels," Cas snarked, apparently feeling insulted at the question.

"Just checkin'" the hunter muttered, already imagining the worst case scenario. He was itching to confront the son of a bitch who was wearing his little brother. "So now what? This Zeke's an imposter? Is that it?"

Castiel sensed Dean's distress, and knowing the hunter, he was probably thinking of something stupid to do. "We shouldn't rush into this one, Dean. If he truly is Ezekiel or not, he's still an angel... and we're short of one at the moment." The unspoken apology was evident in his voice.

"Yeah. Yeah I know, it's too soon to act, I get that," Dean sighed, not wanting to make Castiel re-evaluate his self-worth and simultaneously do something the hunter'll regret later. "The only sure thing to make the bastard leave is for Sam to eject him, and that's a no-go. One word and Zeke'll show up all high 'n mighty like he owns the show."

Castiel thought on the Winchester's words, "But it is possible to talk to Sam without Ezekiel (or whoever he is) interfering. There is a spell - a sigil - that can temporarily trap the angel in the vessel's farthest subconscious."

"Wha - You serious?" A nod. "That's fan-freakin'-tastic, Cas!" Dean blurted, wide-eyed. "For how long?"

Castiel smiled, pleased to have contributed a solution to their problem. "Long enough for you to convince Sam. I could teach you the spell so you can cast it when the time is right." The ex-angel knew Dean won't be thrilled telling the ugly truth but it'd be worth it. And this would mean Cas would remain far from the Winchesters until Sam was cured.

The hunter read his mind, "This means we'll have to wait 'til Sammy's good enough."

Cas was a big boy but Dean was still reluctant to leave him here. There were angel factions gunning for a peep of his trenchcoat and he was as prepared as a newborn huge-ass baby.

His friend mustered a small smile. "I'll be alright. Contrary to what you think, I'm not a baby."

Dean rolled his eyes. Yeah, right.

Man, their plans were looking up but they still have some downsides. He supposed all good plans were like that. The older Winchester figured it was time to blow off some steam and worry about the things they can actually control. Like hunting things, saving lives - the family business. And it's not like Cas's doing anything right now. With his Enochian tattoo and proper warding, he'd get through the day without some random angel spotting him as 'the rebel' Castiel.

He was flicking through different newspapers, collecting information for a possible hunt while the ex-angel was snoozing earlier. The Winchester found some weird ones - supernatural weird - and thought that it was time for a job. He was sure there was nothing angelic with the murders so it was safe to say that Cas could help out on this one. Just this once.

The hunter glanced at his now-human friend, nose buried on a newspaper article and felt a little uncertain. If Cas _wanted_ to hunt, that is. Dean should've figured he spoke too soon.

"There is something very wrong going on in this town, Dean. Shall we check it out?"

 

* * *

 

"No, lose the trenchcoat, man. We don't want some winged asshat recognizing you," Dean scolded as he yanked the apparel from Castiel's hands.

The hunter somehow understood his friend's attachment with the coat, like his attachment to Dad's journal and the Samulet (before he threw it in a trashbin). He knew the trenchcoat was a symbol of everything Castiel stood for but they really shouldn't take unnecessary risks. "Sorry buddy, but you ain't wearing this."

Cas mournfully gazed at the simple tan trenchcoat. He looked at Dean then and the hunter swore if anyone could trump Sam's puppy-dog eyes, it'd be Castiel's pleading angel ones. "But can we buy it, Dean? I promise I won't use it in public."

Dean's jokes about Castiel being a baby wasn't far off the mark (Cas, you child). The older Winchester sighed, not really wanting a repeat with this situation everytime the ex-angel sees a trenchcoat in a clothing store. And they were in a clothing store, trying on proffesional-looking suits for a cheap price. They were playing Feds and were going straight for the morgues before interviewing families, but Cas just had to find a lone tan trenchcoat lying on top a pile of crap.

"Fine," Dean conceded, handing it back to Cas's waiting arms. "But be responsible." That came out a little wrong. And they were treating it like freaking pet for chrissakes!

His friend was too happy to acknowledge the hunter's words. "Thank you, Dean," Castiel said, his voice taking on a happy tone. Well, who was Dean to stop his friend from being happy? It sure wasn't gonna be him.

They hurriedly bought their disguises and dressed, looking every bit of a pair of Federal Agents. Except for Castiel's tie, that is. It seemed turning human didn't cure his awkward fumbling with the necktie, and the blue-striped piece of cloth was facing backwards. Dean had to re-knot the tie, giving Cas a stern expression as he did so. The ex-angel helplessly shrugged.

"You still got that FBI I.D. I gave you?" Dean asked while checking their gear.

"Yes."

"Good. First up, Holy Trinity Hospital."

The job Dean and Cas found in the newspapers involved 3 missing people and 6 unexplained deaths. The manner of injury wasn't explained in the articles, only describing them as 'gruesome' or 'animalistic' in nature. The weird thing about it all was that the every victim died at the same day around noon. Local authorities searched but never found anything suspicious or unusual in the crime scene. And the most recent death was dated only two days ago.

The drive to the hospital was uneventful except for Dean's sing-along with an ACDC song on the radio. Cas didn't know if he liked the hunter's choice of music or not but the thought of going on a hunt felt right, peaceful even. He'd always liked the idea of helping and saving people, especially from the creatures they didn't know were dangerously real. Castiel always had a deep respect for the Winchester brothers' line of profession ever since he was assigned to Dean.

"I want to become a hunter," Castiel suddenly proclaimed as the older Winchester was just hitting a particularly high note. He faltered shamefully.

That wasn't what the hunter had in mind when he decided to take Cas along for the ride. This was supposed to be a one-time thing!

He poked his friend with an incredulous eye, "The last time you said that, you were brainwashed in angel academy." Castiel folded his arms stubbornly, staring the hunter down, "Didn't you say I was a hunter-in-training? I want to be a real hunter, Dean."

"You uh-you sure, buddy? Hunting monsters ain't actually the apple pie life." Cas becoming hunter? That spelled all kinds of disaster.

The ex-angel snorted, "I've failed as an angel. I don't think I deserve an 'apple pie' kind of life- ." Again with the air quotes. "-and being human doesn't really offer you a more noble work than hunting and saving lives." He dared Dean to refute that.

The hunter deflated. Did he have any friends who strayed from the dark and dangerous? Fuck no. Most of his friends were dead. But then again, this is Castiel. He was the captain of a garrison in Heaven and probably could disarm any type of opponent in a blink of an eye. He's surely a better fighter than Dean. Yeah, the older Winchester just had to trust his friend's battle experience to keep himself alive.

"You do remember you were a crappy hunter? Don't come crying to me when something goes wrong," Dean grunted. He spotted Cas smiling in triumph and the hunter internally groaned. Castiel's, angel-of-the-lord-turned-human, status as a hunter is now official. Just friggin' _awesome_.

They entered the Holy Trinity Hospital morgue after a brief review of fake identities and possible cover stories. The pair found the coroner wheeling in a fresh corpse, no doubt from one of the many patients inside the building. Dean showed him his badge, "FBI. Agents Smith," Cas didn't miss his cue and to the other man's relief, showed his own badge perfectly upright,"and Moscone. We're here for the 6 unexplained local deaths in the past 3 months."

"Ah, that case. It's been labeled 'unsolved' by the police. I didn't know you Federal guys paid attention to small deaths, don't get me wrong, I'm relieved the FBI's here." The coroner rambled on, obviously a bit flustered. He looked like he was in his early-30s, probably a new guy and haven't met (fake) national authorities until now.

"We monitor all kinds of criminal activities sir, and this one showed up in our scanners. Strange deaths are one of the FBI's specialties after all," Dean lied smoothly, even winking imperceptibly at Cas. He winked back, none too subtly but the coroner was thankfully not paying enough attention.

The guy nervously chuckled, "Ah, is that so..."

"May we look at the victim now, sir?" Castiel cut in, wanting to get a move on and impress Dean. The coroner fumbled for his clipboard to get the names of the other victims, pointed at the nearest container, and left them to their own devices.

"Huh. Staying quiet and no awkward commentaries. You've improved, congratulations!" the older Winchester playfully mocked, picking up a pair of gloves with one hand and tossing another pair with his other one to Castiel.

"Okay... Devon Mitchell? Pull that handle, Cas." He pointed to the one with the specified name.

The new hunter wordlessly obeyed, grasping the metal handle and pulling out the cold unmoving body of Mr. Mitchell. Cas tilted his head to the side, observing the corpse that was laid up in front of him like an interesting specimen under a microscope. "There is something missing," he deadpanned.

"No shit, Sherlock. His chest's a gaping hole. I say, Werewolf," Dean pushed the body back into place and faced his friend. "Bet all the victims have missing hearts. Time for a little 'trick or treating'."

The hunter dumped the surgical gloves in the trash with practiced precision and turned towards the exit.

"But it's not Halloween..." Cas muttered, aiming a confused look on Dean's retreating back. He hurried to catch up with the hunter - they had a job to do.

 


End file.
